A Tale of Love and Fur
by Morbidly Obscure
Summary: In which Orihara Izaya experiences the peculiar incident of love at first sight. Izaya x His Coat. Oneshot, Crack-ish, Highschool!Izaya.


**Izaya x His Coat. Come on, we all know this pairing is totally canon.**

**Just something that came to me. I was watching episode seven and noticed Izaya didn't have his fluffy, and I started wondering where/how he'd gotten it in the first place. Yeah, these are the questions that keep me up at night.**

**Crack? Probably. OOC? I tried not to…but, yeah, most likely. Maybe some spoilers for episode seven, but nothing important.**

**Please review whether or not you like it!**

**oOoOo**

_A __**golf-cart**__? __**Really**__? _Sixteen-year-old Orihara Izaya thought as the vehicle whizzed by his head and slammed into the concrete with an unceremonious **Thunk**.

_Where did he even __**get**__ a golf-cart?_

The teen looked over his shoulder as he ran, noting that Shizuo was far behind, but damn if that dislodged mailbox sign wasn't getting close _fast._

"Haha, careful Shizzy!" Izaya barely dodged the airborne chunk of metal, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were actually trying to hurt me!"

The blonde's only response was a fury-garbled shout more akin to a roar than anything that would leave a normal person's mouth. And then he ripped a telephone pole out of the ground.

"Well this is dangerous," Izaya muttered as the domino effect took hold, causing pole after wire-connected pole to crash to the ground, "Ah!"

Avoiding the falling poles, Izaya turned down the closest street, then, hearing Shizuo's thundering footsteps following suit, ducked into a store front.

Red-brown eyes did a preliminary sweep of the brightly lit department store before settling on one of the clothes carousels.

"Ah-ha!" The dark-haired teen grinned widely as he crawled under the carousel, settling into the cache. It was small and dark, like a little cave. Made of clothes.

_Good luck finding me here, Shizzy~_

As Izaya leaned into the wall of clothes at his back, he felt something soft brush his face.

"Ohhhh, that feels nice~~" Izaya leaned into the softness, laughing lightly, "Furry…"

**oOoOo**

The store clerk glanced up from the hentai manga he'd been reading under the desk when he heard muffled giggles coming from one of the clothes carousels. He sighed, resigned, and slipped the manga into its hiding place. The clerk figured some brat was hiding from their mom under the carousel. Again.

"Alright kid, get outta-" The clerk stopped mid-sentence after pushing a curtain of clothes out of the way. Curled up in the center of the clothes was a dark-haired teenager nuzzling his face into the fur trim of a coat, occasionally making little "mm" noises as he cuddled the fabric.

"Uhhh…" The clerk scratched his balding head, not sure what to make of this development.

"How rude of you," Izaya glared up at the clerk from the fur, annoyed at the interruption.

"Er…Sorry?" The clerk made a move as to replace the curtain of clothes, but Izaya was already getting up. The moment was ruined.

The teen brushed himself off, never breaking eye contact with the clerk. The older man was visibly squirming, unnerved by the boy's crimson glare.

"Look, if you're not going to buy something, you really have to leave," The clerk was anxious to get Izaya out of the store-the teen practically reeked of trouble.

Suddenly, Izaya's gaze shifted to something else, and the clerk's nasal voice became nothing more than an annoying buzz at the edge of his consciousness.

"Shh." Izaya held a finger up, effectively silencing the man beside him. Dreamily, the teen sauntered toward the familiar fur trim. He picked the coat off the rack, snuggling his cheek against the furry hood and running his hands tenderly over the dark fabric.

"Well hello, coat-chan," Izaya purred to the cloth. The teen let his jacket fall to the floor and slipped into the coat.

A tingling went through Izaya's body as the interior of the coat slid against his clothes. It was as though the coat was made for him, hugging his body perfectly in all the right places, versatile and comfortable as a second skin.

Izaya's eyes snapped to the clerk, who'd been growing more uncomfortable by the second, "I must have this coat."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," The creeped-out clerk ushered Izaya to the cash register, "Come on."

Izaya followed, parting with the coat reluctantly so the man could ring it up.

When it came time to pay, Izaya clicked open his wallet to find…nothing.

_Heh, silly me. Spent it all on those guys who jumped Shizzy this morning._

For the first time, Izaya wondered if tormenting Shizuo was really worth the financial drain.

"No money, no sale," the clerk chimed.

Izaya growled in response-actually growled, like a doggy. The teen's eyes lit up as he reached into the pocket of his jeans. The clerk thanked the heavens that this transaction was almost over, then was surprised to find a flickblade pressed against his neck.

"As it turns out, I'm a little low on funds," Izaya explained amiably, "think you could help me out?"

The clerk stuttered a positive-this job was _so_ not worth dying for-and breathed a sigh of relief as the knife was retracted.

Izaya beamed as he slung the coat around his shoulders once again, "Oh, I love meeting nice people like you!" He exclaimed as he danced to the door, "Bye-bye, shopkeeper-san!"

Izaya was positively giddy once he exited the shop. He wasn't paying much attention as to where he was going, but that was okay-most people give a wide berth to the guy skipping down the streets with a flickblade, laughing maniacally.


End file.
